


The Hero and the Virgin

by sunshinehime



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Drugging, Gen, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Kidnapping, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) Whump, aro/ace Keith, broganes, but be careful anyway, lots of hurt a little bit of comfort at the end, non-consensual removal of clothing, that one is important, the attempted rape is not described in any detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-09-29 12:17:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinehime/pseuds/sunshinehime
Summary: Coran's extremely outdated intel on the Kolese did not do their unsettling features justice. They are tall, bony people with extremely long fingers and limbs. The pure white of their smooth, wholly featureless skin nearly match the sclera of their eyes, which possess no irises or pupils. This all belies their bright, animated voices and warm demeanors that make them more than gracious hosts during the Paladins and Alteans’ stay.Thus, making this turn of events the worst case of emotional whiplash Shiro experienced since his capture by the Galra on Kerberos.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Voltron: Legendary Defender and make no profit from this work.
> 
> Beta'd by Ladyaema. Please heed all tags/warnings before reading this story.

Shiro’s eyes fly open, delirious, and he vaults himself upright. His body moves faster than his mind can process as it functions purely on the instincts honed from his year in the gladiator pit and his time so far as a Paladin. Once his brain catches up, he immediately takes stock of his location.

He's in the center of a small clearing, the dirt tight and compact as if many people or things have repeatedly trampled it. Roughly 25 feet before him is a cliff face, most likely between 30 to 40 feet high, with the rest of the perimeter surrounded by the lush purple, red, and orange vegetation and gigantic trees seen nearly everywhere on the planet. 

Not good.

It’s a completely foreign area, the sovereign’s large castle nowhere in sight. Shiro looks down and is alarmed but unsurprised to see his civilian clothes on, the words “dress casually” echoing in Allura's voice as she repeated the request from their hosts.

He picks up on a low groan and sees Keith laying on the ground a few feet away. His stomach drops at seeing one of his own also trapped with him, especially his brother. He makes his way over and crouches, gently nudging him awake.

“Sh’roh?” Normally the sound of him slurring his name would bring a smile to Shiro’s face but now he can only fret, the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach growing with every passing tick. “Keith, c’mon buddy, wake up for me. We were captured somehow, we have to  _move_.” 

Keith is wearing his civvies as well, with no bayard on him and his knife nowhere to be seen (“come unarmed” should have been a tip off for all of them but Shiro knows what they say about hindsight). This is worsening by the dobash.

Keith finally opens his eyes and rubs them slowly. To Shiro’s dismay they’re still cloudy. ‘Something’s wrong,’ Shiro thinks, ‘he never takes this long to rouse.’ He lifts up Keith with care and wraps an arm around his waist, leaning him against his own body to better steady him. 

He continues to observe the environment as he waits for Keith to regain his senses. There’s something shimmering just on the edges of the perimeter and he clenches his teeth. Most likely a barrier. This is going to be a problem.

“Shiro, what’s going on? Where are we?” Shiro breathes a sigh of relief. At least Keith is finally aware now. “Looks like we were drugged somehow and then taken here. It was most likely the food.” The last part he whispers more to himself but Keith overhears anyway and growls in response. 

Despite his own misgivings on their situation, Shiro does his best to exude confidence to calm him. “Don’t worry Keith, we’ll figure something out. Now, can you stand on your own?” Keith nods and Shiro lets go, paying close attention to the steadiness of his legs. He stumbles for a moment but regains his footing and seems to be good to go.

“Unfortunately, there’s some sort of barrier around the area. I’ll see if my arm can cut through it.” He steadies himself and begins to activate his Galran prosthetic, waiting for the telltale pulsing of heat and violet light.

Instead what feels like lightning shoots up his arm and through his spine, paralyzing him with a split second of agony as he cries out. Keith catches him just before he faceplants in the dirt and rubs his back. “Talk to me Shiro, you still with me?”

Shiro shakes his head clear and groans as he’s set upright again thanks to Keith. “I...I don’t know what happened. My arm’s not responding. Something must be restricting it somehow.” 

Keith sucks his teeth and considers this for a tick. “Mm. Maybe it's some kind of magic or, or Quintessence field? Kinda like a smaller version of that barrier around us, yeah?” He jerks his thumb back for emphasis, then crosses his arms. “That would explain those bolts of energy coming out of your arm.”

In other words, he can’t charge his arm's powered function. Meaning they have zero weapons on them. Also meaning he’ll be relying on pure hand-to-hand if they need to resort to fighting.

Wait.

“Uh, Shiro? If we were kidnapped, where are our captors?” Leave it to Keith to know exactly where his train of thought is going. Shiro bites his lip, unease growing, both at not having an answer for Keith and at the uncertainty of their fate.

“Paladins of Voltron. I thank you for coming to us.” Shiro and Keith both jump out their skins, heads shooting up to face the cliff and the direction of the voice. Before their eyes, a small group of seven Kolese gather, wearing robes of various colors that denote their rank.

Coran's extremely outdated intel on the Kolese did not do their unsettling features justice. They are tall, bony people with extremely long fingers and limbs. The pure white of their smooth, wholly featureless skin nearly match the sclera of their eyes, which possess no irises or pupils. This all belies their bright, animated voices and warm demeanors that make them more than gracious hosts during the Paladins and Alteans’ stay.

Thus, making this turn of events the worst case of emotional whiplash Shiro experienced since his capture by the Galra on Kerberos.

Their leader is in the center of the group, easy to pick out due to the same royal blue ornate garb and crown seen during the party earlier.

“The hell are we? What’s going on?” Keith certainly doesn’t mince words and Shiro is inclined to agree with his sentiment. Regardless, he needs to de-escalate the situation fast and hopefully resolve whatever’s happening here. 

“What Keith  _means_  to say is if there’s some sort of misunderstanding, please let us know where we went wrong so we can settle this peacefully.” Keith turns to raise an eyebrow and Shiro makes a point to ignore him. He already knows that was a stretch.

The leader (Maltik, Shiro strains to remember, he was so pleasant at the celebration) chuckles. “There is no misunderstanding Paladins. You two have been chosen by the High Priestess who speaks for the Goddess, to be Sacrifices in our next ceremony. She has been angered by the...poor...quality of our previous Tributes and has made Herself clear that we would be punished--”

Shiro finds himself interrupting Maltik’s tirade, face drained of all color. “Wait,  _what_?  _Sacrifices_? I-you can’t be serious!”

Maltik tilts his heads, as if confused by Shiro's words. “Black Paladin, I do not understand. Why would we jest regarding such grave matters?” Shiro's blood runs cold. The apathy radiating from the monarch is palpable. As much as he wishes to resolve this without violence, his instincts warn him that they'll be in for a battle.

Keith intervenes, his face red with barely repressed anger. “Because we're Paladins of  _Voltron_ , here to protect you and the universe from the Galra. And if you take us out, that's all those lives in danger, including  _your own people_!” His fists were shaking now and Shiro would bet money if any of the Kolese were in front of him he would have punched them. 

Shiro takes a deep breathe and continues, attempting to calm his now spiking heart rate. “He's right, this isn't how we do things. We may be protectors but we aren't sacrificial pawns. There are too many lives at stake. Let us go.”

Maltik sighs, as if dealing with back talking children and not two people being prepped for sacrificial death. “Please control yourselves. Your lives will contribute to our continued survival and glory. You should be grateful for such an honor.” He ignores Keith's indignant sputter and continues. “And while using Paladins may seem...  _unorthodox_ , it's by the Grace of our Goddess that we happened upon two sacrifices so perfect for our ceremony, and delivered right to us. There was simply no way we could not partake.”

The cries from Keith that the others will come find them and they won't get away with this go unanswered. “Especially the Red Paladin. We were extremely fortunate to find one that so... _completely_  fits our requirements.”

Those words are already ominous enough. But the leer in his voice. It sets Shiro on edge. In his peripheral vision he notices the clench in Keith’s jaw, confirming that he picked up on it too. Maltik begins whispering to another near him. Shiro tenses, knowing that whatever this ceremony is will begin soon. He glances over to Keith, who's whipcord stiff.

Shiro squeezes Keith’s shoulder with his human hand and a little of the tension loosens. “Don’t worry, we won't be sticking around long enough for anything to happen.” He sighs and lowers his voice, having to ask this question but not wanting to hear its probable answer. “I know it’s a long shot but, do you happen to have your knife on you?”

“Yep, under my shirt, below the armpit.” Keith answers just as softly.

Shiro can’t help but huff and smile. “I have never been more grateful for you disobeying an order.” Keith simply smirks in response then flinches along with Shiro when another Kolese yells to release the Ilnesh. This one is dressed in white robes trimmed with gold and carries a long golden staff, most likely an important figure.

A deep rumbling soon fills the clearing, growing louder until the cacophony rattles Shiro's teeth. Keith's hand hovers near his knife's location but not close enough to give himself away. Shiro steps into a boxing stance, resigned that he would have to essentially beat these creatures to death, with all the risk close proximity carries.

He’s aware they need to hold out as long as possible to buy precious time until the rest of the team realizes they’re missing and organizes a search. But how long will that take? What lies did Maltik feed them? How long were they unconscious in between being captured and rousing? Too many variables, which could mean the difference between one varga and several.

Keith rubs his eyes again and shakes his head. Shiro flickers his gaze over but before he can question him, a small opening forms in the barrier and both men nod to each other then try to rush it in time. However, from that point a multitude of small creatures (just shy a hundred Shiro estimates with growing dread) emerge from the opening and flood the enclosure.

Ilnesh stand between six to eight inches and are covered completely in soft white fur. Large, almost watery, brown eyes are visible and normally nothing else. One’s first impression is that they're adorable walking cotton balls that pose as much threat as wet tissue paper. But Shiro and Keith know better. They and the rest of the team were treated to an accidental showing of their true nature as predators. 

As the large group made their way to the post battle celebration, in the distance they spotted a lone Ilnesh being stalked by a would be predator, an almost cheetah looking creature but with small tan feathers instead of fur. Once the animal was within striking distance it pounced.

A sudden flock of white appeared and moved between the two. Over a dozen Ilnesh laid in wait and ambushed the beast, sharp teeth and even sharper claws extended from limbs that were tucked away in their fur, ripping through their target's flesh like fresh bread. A few dobashes later and the bones were completely stripped of all meat.

Lance screamed at the sight and Hunk was that much closer to vomiting. Keith and Pidge wore near identical expressions of shock, which would have normally entertained Shiro but he was fighting off his own bout of nausea. Worsening in no small part due to Coran's increasingly vivid details of the creature's hunting tactics, which Allura was thankfully able to curb while looking a bit green herself.

The Ilnesh’s claws are visible and teeth bare as their sheer numbers block the way out. Shiro and Keith are forced to engage to reach the breach in the barrier. Keith darts ahead and grabs the hilt of the luxite knife with his right hand, pulling it free from its sheath. The knife whistles through the air as it cleaves Ilnesh before their claws can reach him. He tosses the knife to his left hand and reverse grips it to stab one approaching from behind (did his fingers almost slip?).

Shiro bends his knees, center of gravity lowered, and glances at Keith one last time before quickly stepping forward for a right jab, hearing a sickening crunch as an Ilnesh’s face caves in. He doesn't dwell on that, just pulls his fist back to guard in time to roll from a swiping clawed hand. A left uppercut launches the attacker forward and knocks it into several others. This becomes his routine, maintaining his guard and stance while swiftly dodging and attacking to avoid being overwhelmed.

Since he needs to strike close they sometimes catch him in the brief moments he switches arms, but nothing more than a shallow cut before he makes quick work of them. They also tend to catch him when he sneaks glances at Keith but Shiro can’t help himself. Each time he witnesses a flurry of movement, punctuated by streaks of blue blood from the creatures he cuts down. They push forward, cutting a swath of death between them.

Shiro checks on Keith again and his stomach sinks. He's still elegant and efficient in his movements. But he's noticeably slower now. Shiro recalls that moment of sloppiness in the beginning and knows it's related to Keith’s earlier difficulty in rousing. ‘They drugged Keith worse than me.’ That thought is sudden yet rings true. Shiro makes a snap decision and rushes to Keith’s side, swatting aside Ilnesh as they move in his way. They need to risk it and get out,  _now_.

“Keith, we--” Keith grunts while still looking forward, clearly waiting for Shiro to finish. But he never does. The Kolese with the staff shouts out, a call for a Greater? Ilnesh, Shiro tenses, and there’s a rumbling that quakes the very earth. It takes him an effort to keep steady and he can clearly see it takes even more for Keith.

Luckily the Ilnesh are rendered unbalanced as well, giving the pair a much needed breather. Shiro takes stock and they’ve both cleared more than half of the small creatures. He also notes  the cuts and scratches littering Keith’s arms and legs through the rips in his clothes. Thankfully nothing looks remotely deep with very little bleeding.

The sound becomes thunderous, behind the barrier entire trees are knocked over as if made of plastic, and abruptly a breathing mountain of thick pale fur appears from the ruined foliage, barreling through the barrier opening.

Unlike a normal Ilnesh, this one’s thick black limbs are completely visible, extending from its body in a way that somewhat mirrors human proportions. Its eyes are still brown but with yellow sclera inside of white, and its mouth is filled with teeth resembling razor blades.

Shiro and Keith yell in alarm as the huge Ilnesh approaches them, the beast completely dwarfing them with its sheer size. The smaller ones stand well away, giving the Greater plenty of room. The behemoth swings its arm across at a frightening speed and Shiro shifts to a rolling dodge instantly, feeling the wind just above his head and knowing it would have been knocked clean off if that blow had connected.

In that brief window the Greater is distracted, Keith positions behind it and sinks his knife in the base of its back, somewhere above where the tailbone would be if it were human, then cutting up. Shiro can hear the blade slicing through skin and muscle and experiences a tactile flashback of doing the same in the arena. He suppresses that memory before it fully crystallizes.

Blue blood spurts out and coats Keith’s face, shirt, and jacket. The Greater screams in agony and whirls around. Shiro screams for Keith to run and Keith attempts to block the incoming blow with his right arm to create an opening. Its foot catches his wrist and there’s a sickening crack as Keith is launched in the air.

His cry of pain is cut off as the Greater grabs his leg and swings him downward, the breath knocked out of him when his back slams in the ground. Shiro aims a right cross at the open wound and it connects, blood now coating half his prosthetic.

The Greater Ilnesh roars and his free arm flails out, slamming into Shiro’s midsection. He hears a crack and feels something break, tear inside. The world freezes for a moment. He can see the smaller Ilnesh beginning to swarm Keith, the Greater still holding onto his leg. Then his feet leave the ground, his world blurs and spins and he collides with solid earth again in a jarring impact. He wheezes, unable to take in air for a terrifying few seconds. Copper pools in his mouth.

Shiro struggles on his back for a moment, then slowly rolls on his stomach with a groan (and ignores the blossoming agony), resting heavily on his forearms. A loud noise begins to faze into his ears and another moment before it registers.

Screaming.

 _Keith_.

He looks up and his blood turns to ice. The Ilnesh’s claws are out and ripping through Keith’s shirt and slacks like butter. His thicker red jacket, the one Shiro knows he loves so much, is almost as easily torn and sliced away. Keith is trying to fight them off, shouting and swearing and kicking out with his remaining leg.

Shiro’s not sure when he starts calling Keith’s name but he continues as he slowly, slowly drags his body over. Any minute, any awful sickening minute he’ll see blood and gore arch in the air, like the blood from that animal they tore apart, and he clenches his teeth and forces himself faster.

Shiro hears chanting from a distance and lifts his head just enough to see the Kolese. Their eyes are closed and arms are raised in praise. A sudden mob of Ilnesh swarm Shiro’s vision and he feels clawed hands pin his arms and body down as well, immobilizing him. Shiro cries out, he doesn’t have the strength to fight them off.

He instead takes a breath (it was meant to be deep but the pain and blood in his mouth makes it shudder) and forces himself to yell. “P-please, please stop this. Don’t, he’s--” He then hears Keith’s voice, shaky but loud (thank god he’s  _alive_  thankgodthankgod), “You think your goddess is gonna protect you from the Galra? You take us out, there’s no Voltron and no one to stop them from ruining your whole planet!”

Affronted gasps litter the crowd and the Kolese with the staff steps forward and brandishes it at Keith. “You know not what you speak of,  _Sacrifice_. Her glory has protected us for deca-phoebs and will continue to do so as long as Her faithful servants praise Her name.” 

The Kolese begins speaking again, raising their staff to the sky. 

 **“O Great Ilnesh, let the blood of the Hero runneth over and cleanse the sin of violence from our people.”**  

Shiro’s attention flickers back to himself and he realizes that bit of yelling on his part caused more blood to pour from his mouth. He notes the dark red color and It occurs to him that he has acute internal bleeding. Not that he doesn’t already feel it but the visual confirmation makes it downright ominous.

The next chant is far worse.

 **“O Great Ilnesh, let the blood of the Virgin runneth over and cleanse the sin of lasciviousness from our people.”**  

Shiro’s head snaps up and sees Keith, taking in the scene. About ten of the small Ilnesh are pinning his arms above his head and his upper body down. The Greater still has a tight grip on his right leg. Other than the shallow cuts and scratches that litter his bare arms, legs, and torso, he seems to be fine enough to still struggle and curse.

Wait. Bare? He focuses again. He can see the marks on his body because other than his boots, gloves and the sheath wrapped around his upper arm, Keith’s clothes are completely torn away, laying in tattered shreds near him. 

Shiro forces himself to think. They just said the virgin. But  _how_  would they even know about that? Coran’s voice echoes in his mind. Before they left the castle after changing out of their armor, he gave them a brief introduction to their culture. “The Kolese have very strong telepathic abilities, which they mainly use to reach into each others’ minds for emotional input, comfort, and basic information. The strongest of them are, however, capable of gleaning massive amounts of intel from a single mind read.”

“You called him a, a  _virgin_? You read our minds? Is that--” Shiro coughs and more blood comes up. But he needs to ask, to find out because a picture is slowly painting, one that is more horrifying than anything Shiro could ever conceive, and keeping them talking buys time and draws pertinent information. “Is that...a part of your scheme? Him needing t-to be one?”

Maltik beams. “As I’ve said before, he is the perfect Sacrifice. A Virgin of both body  _and_  mind is frighteningly rare to find. Even rarer than finding a Hero of your calibre. And our Greater Ilnesh will be sure to spill his blood for us.” 

Shiro’s pulse is pumping in his ears and he can barely hear his own voice over it, demanding to tell him what they plan to do with Keith. His heart bangs against his ribcage. He glances at Keith’s eyes: huge, watery, and filled with unbridled horror.

Shiro follows his line of sight and inhales. That-that  _thing_ , its body is slightly bend and shaking. Sickly yellow globs of what must be saliva drip from its maw of razor teeth and land with a moist plop on Keith's stomach. Shiro hears an audible gasp from the monster and its right hand jerks and and--

Oh god.  _No_. “Listen, please don’t do this, please.” the Greater drags Keith closer to his body and his screams begin anew. “Please I’m begging you, please  _please_  stop, he’s just a kid!” The priest leads a prayer, the others following until it reverberates. Vibrates in his skin, rattles his teeth. Keith’s screams become hysterical as he struggles, the Ilnesh pinning him while the Greater’s massive body hovers over him. The taste of pennies fills Shiro’s mouth, his own screams doing nothing to drown out the horrible, monotone chanting and Keith’s tearful shrieks.

Nonono  _please_  nogodpleasedontnotKeith “Keith, No STOP  _KEITH_ ”

KEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITHKEITH  _KEI_ \--

Time stops.

He sees all with clarity. The five spiderweb cracks in the patch of dry soil before him. The soft texture of the Greater’s fur, a pale blue matted with dark blood. The black sole of Keith’s left boot, well worn but still solid and heavy.

Shiro knows now. He grins.

His right arm whirs to life and he feels the agony traveling through it and down his back, the Quintessence attempting to restrict its use. But Shiro will not be denied. Keith  _will_  be saved. He puts his full energy into the prosthetic and it crackles with energy. The pain nearly overwhelms him, so he channels it into adrenaline and puts it to use.

A shockwave fans out, blowing a few of the Ilnesh holding Shiro away. Those are the lucky ones. Shiro’s arm is now buzzing, violet and bright. He swings it around in a wide arc, eviscerating any Ilnesh near it. Burning tissue and intestines unfurl.

There's more tearing inside his body. It doesn’t matter. He charges forward and suddenly his entire arm is buried inside the wound Keith gave the monster earlier. It screeches in pain and tries to shake its body, letting go of Keith’s leg in the process. 'Not enough,' flashes through Shiro mind and the arm blazes, its light extending several inches from his fingertips.

He swings his arm upward, dragging it through its innards. The smell of burning flesh, gore, and meat is potent. He feels the wet thickness of its intestines before it sears, the bones of its spine as it fractures. Blue blood that doesn't disintegrate from the heat pours down his arm and soaks the right half of his clothes. In a normal fight he would be sickened but now, now it is the scent and weight of victory. 

For an instant the background flashes from beautiful foliage to a musty arena veiled in dark purple; the cheers crescendo in his ears. He extends the heat’s range to pierce upwards, almost reaching the monster’s neck. With a blood-curdling bellow choked by blood, the Greater Ilnesh topples over to the side, stills, and is no more.

Silence chokes the area. Then all Hell breaks loose.

The remaining Ilnesh circle around them and flee toward the rift in the barrier in a mindless stampede. The Kolese shriek in rage and through his peripheral vision Shiro spots a few of them descending the cliff with frightening speed. Having nothing left to give, Shiro turns and shields Keith with his body, preparing himself to fight again.  _They will not touch him_.

The Red Lion’s head breaches the barrier easily, using its plasma beam to burn through the Ilnesh before they can escape, as well as the corpse of the Greater. Pidge’s Green Lion ripples into existence soon after and its mouth opens, flooding the area with his comrades.

‘Good,’ Shiro thinks, and then proceeds to topple over as reality resumes and the pain returns to properly consume his body. Before he hits the ground, a pair of strong arms catch him. Shiro has no strength to lift his head but he sees red and white boots and a weight lifts from his heart.

Pain continues to course through his stomach and chest and it's almost too much to even breathe. The sounds of weapons firing, shouting, and the roars of their Lions flood Shiro's brain in a muted cacophony. Two yellow and white armored legs appear in front of him and he feels even stronger arms wrap around his body and hoist him up in one smooth motion. Shiro grunts in pain at the sudden shift of his body and Hunk?  _Hunk_  says something in return. 

They're moving and soon reach Green. He’s laid on the floor of what he assumes is the cockpit, more legs move around him and he sees the Lion’s mouth shut, natural light replaced by a soothing green glow.

More voices are speaking, yelling. Shiro tastes more copper in his mouth and his vision blurs as a wave of dizziness washes over him. He panics, reaching out with his human arm. He can’t explain what he needs but knows he needs it  _now_. A gloved hand grasps his own and he recognizes Keith. He smiles, squeezes back, and is aware no more.

* * *

Shiro’s eyes fly open, delirious, and he attempts to vault himself up but his body won’t cooperate. Panic rises in his chest and his breathing escalates. His vision, white dotted and blurry, clears in bursts until he makes out the forms of Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Coran, and Allura standing before him. ‘Where’s... where’s….’ His thoughts can’t focus. As his chest evens the glass of the healing pod opens and he stumbles out, still trapped in a medically induced daze. 

A pair of arms clad in red catch him and wrap a blanket around his shivering form. Shiro is led to a pile of blankets and pillows set up on the floor nearby and he gratefully sits, almost letting his head rest on someone’s lap before full awareness floods his mind and he realizes  _whose_  lap it is.

“Keith!” Shiro embraces his brother in a bear hug, letting the powerful waves of relief and joy wash over him. He feels Keith’s hesitation and then a pair of arms hug him just as tightly, his face buried in Shiro’s shoulder. The two stay like this for a long while, taking comfort in their mutual happiness. Eventually Shiro’s constant thoughts and concerns are too overwhelming and he reluctantly pulls back to look at Keith.

“You feeling okay?” Shiro blinks, not expecting to hear that question. Hearing how soft and hoarse Keith’s voice is bothers him even more. “I feel,” he takes a moment to assess his physical self. No pain. The pods are always thorough, he recalls. “Good, actually.”

He swallows once, then decides to bit the bullet. “How are you doing?” The effect is instantaneous. Keith’s shoulders coil up and he hugs his arms around his torso. Shiro really takes in Keith’s appearance. He’s wearing a baggy red hoodie and black sweatpants complete with thick black socks, the type of outfit he dons when he feels particularly overwhelmed and needs to be covered and comforted. The bags under his eyes are heavy and dark. 

Shiro’s heart drops into his stomach. Keith’s bare body littered with cuts and bruises, his screams of terror, his tear streaked face flashes in Shiro’s mind in an endless loop and he grips Keith’s shoulders, startling him. “Are you--? Did-did that  _thing_ ,” he spits out the word like venom, “hurt you?” Keith’s eyes widen before letting out a soft “oh” as the implications seem to sink in. He shakes his head, and takes Shiro’s hands in his own, lowering them until they rest back on the blankets. His eyes stay trained on their joined hands as he talks.

“It. It didn’t--” He swallows, voice cracking. Keith has to blink back tears and Shiro nearly sheds his own. “It was close, r- _really_  close. But you saved me in time.”

Shiro’s relief swells then fades fast as his mind returns to those moments, when he freed himself and attacked that monster. Bile catches in his throat recalling his state of mind, how close he was to his Champion self. He can’t put into words the sensations that overtake him now, disgust and fear and loathing tangle in a thorny knot.

A tremor builds in his hands until he feels a slight pressure steadying them. Keith shakes his head again, then looks directly in his eyes. Shiro flinches and almost looks away, nearly unable to take the earnest stare. “Shiro. You  _saved_  me. Thank you.” And he smiles a tiny and sincere smile and something loosens in Shiro’s heart.

“Yeah, Keith told us how badass you were back there, taking out that big monster thing with your arm.”

“Wow Lance, you couldn’t even let them finish their moment.”

“Whatever Pidge, they can bond more once we move this cuddle pile over to the lounge. And geez Hunk, how long are you gonna stand there and cry?”

Shiro fondly shakes his head and spots the three teens off to the side by a gurney, completely forgetting he saw everyone in the medical bay not five minutes ago and they were most likely waiting for the two to finish. Judging from Keith’s hilarious startled cat impression he had forgotten as well.

Coran and Allura approach them, relief written all over both their faces, and crouch down to better speak to the sitting pair. “Number One, wonderful to see you up and running again. You gave us quite the scare back on the Green Lion. You looked like a Lorimuf after twenty quintants in the fighting pits of Thrygrone!”

As usual Shiro doesn't know what the hell Coran is saying but he can always appreciate the comfort he brings in smiles that crinkle the corners of his eyes and the reassuring hand on his shoulder. “And Number Four here has been doing just fine as well. His injuries healed up nicely and we made sure he took it easy to boot.”

“And as you should know, that was no easy feat.” Allura takes Shiro and Keith’s hands in her own and beams, her jewel eyes wet with unshed tears. “I’m so relieved that you are both alright. And I--” She squeezes their hands a little tighter and swallows hard. “I am truly sorry that I misjudged the Kolese so profoundly. And that you both were put in such grave danger because of  _my_  actions.”

“Princess, you mustn’t be so hard on yourself. We we all taken in by their hospitality I’m afraid.”

“He’s right Princess, it’s not your fault. It’s--”

Keith cuts Shiro off. “It’s  _their_  fault. With their stupid, sacrificial  _bullshit_.” Keith’s face is flush with anger, his hands pulled back from Allura and Shiro, now clenched in his lap. Then just as quickly his fury leaves him and he physically deflates. “S-sorry.” He looks sheepish and vulnerable, pairing with his tired eyes.

Shiro’s jaw clenches at the sight, his free right hand creaking as it flexes. “No, don’t apologize Keith. You have  _every_  right to be angry.” Allura and Coran are visibly taken aback by Shiro’s sudden mood switch. Keith isn’t exactly comfortable with his fury, but he’s seen it come out before.

“Alright that does it! No more talk about this, I’m coming in for a hug.” And Hunk, with tears still streaming down his face, comes right between the two brothers and envelopes each in an arm, holding both close to him. 

Before Shiro or Keith can recover from the shock Lance and Coran shout “group hug!” then tuck themselves in right in front of them along with Allura, who is more than happy to dole out some much needed comfort. Pidge rolls her eyes at the sight and come in to occupy the last of the free space.

Shiro feels Keith gradually relax into the impromptu hug, which makes him smile. And while Shiro knows they have  _a lot_  to discuss later, for now he can indulge in the warm embrace of his family.

“Okay so I know I started this whole hug and all but. I kinda have to pee now.”

Amidst the cries and protests from the others, Shiro sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the disastrous events involving the Kolese, Shiro is on the mend and Keith must come to terms with his own trauma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to user animelover20 for motivating me to write this, so thank you so much!
> 
> Beta'd by Ladyaema. Please heed all tags/warnings before reading this story.

****After he’s pinned down by the Ilnesh, time moves in flashes.

Shiro flying back with sickening ragdoll physics. The sounds of his own screams as he’s pulled closer. The giant monster hovering, drool dripping and spattering and it’s gonna  _it’s gonna_   _itsgonnapleasepleaseohgodpleasenonono_  Shiro charges and cuts through its body, blood spurting. Shiro in front of him as Kolese scale down the cliff.

Time flows again when Red emerges and the heat of rage is in his mind, anguish blazing like a furnace as she burns the monsters before her. Keith indulges in the shared petty satisfaction of Red needlessly incinerating  _that thing’s_  corpse when he sees Shiro drop.

He kicks up faster than he thought himself capable and catches Shiro just before he hits the ground. Agony explodes as pressure is put on his broken wrist and he bites back a scream.  _No_ , Shiro fought for him, almost  _died_  protecting him. There’s no time for weakness now, he needs to get him to safety.

Green emerges, materializing from what must be her cloaking. The sounds of weapons, shouting, and pounding feet begin to roar around him as her mouth hatch opens. Hunk appears before them as many more Kolese emerge, most likely stationed around the rear of the cliff as hidden security.

“Hey buddy, lemme get him for you.” And he lifts the injured man almost effortlessly, Shiro grunting in pain. “I’m sorry Shiro, we’ll get you healed up soon. And Keith? You need some help too?” He’s looking directly at Keith’s swollen wrist and Keith is endlessly grateful he doesn’t mention his obvious lack of clothes.

He tries to answer but the words are stuck in his throat so he shakes his head instead. He steels his legs through sheer willpower, cradles his wrist against his body, and manages to keep pace with Hunk as they sprint back to Green. Keith spares a glance behind him and sees Red’s plasma beam create a mock barrier keeping the Kolese away as Lance takes up the rear, laying down cover fire.

Keith tries to avoid everyone’s gaze as him and Hunk board and lower Shiro to the floor, but he accidentally catches the horrified expressions on Lance and Pidge’s face before he sits down near his brother. He hears Allura shouting orders, and the sights and sounds of Green closing and taking off. Shiro’s hand shoots out and Keith unthinkingly grasps it with his uninjured left, squeezing it.

Shiro soon passes out, the grimace on his face smoothing into something approaching peaceful, and Keith is left to the mercy of his own wandering thoughts. The first thing he notices is the aggressive rawness of his throat, most likely from all his screaming. From there his mind inevitably drifts back to that monster and how it dragged him close and it leaned over him and the feeling of its wet spit plop on his stomach and bringing its hand stop it  _stop it_

A sudden weight drops on Keith’s shoulders and his heart stops before seeing the pair of blue and white armored legs. ‘It’s just Lance,  _calm down_.’ The weight is wrapped a little tighter around him and he sees it’s Lance’s green jacket. There’s a lump in his throat and he can’t push past it to speak. Instead he looks up and Lance gives him a sort of half smile that does nothing for his dim eyes.

Keith turns back to his and Shiro’s joined hands, feeling slightly better with the jacket covering him. He feels the essence of a warm, cozy fire in his mind and knows it's Red calming him.

* * *

Allura informs them that Coran has a healing pod prepped for both Shiro and Keith as they dock and it’s a matter of getting Shiro there in time and changing him into the cryo suit. Once he’s set inside, Coran checks over his vitals and confirms that he’s stable and will make a full recovery.

The blood pounding in Keith’s ears slows at the news and his shoulders lax in relief. He barely hears Coran’s next words, “My boy, Number Two tells me you have an injured wrist. May I see?”

Keith extends his arm and winces as a sharp pain jolts through his wrist. Coran looks thoughtful as he examines it, holding the injured part in a surprisingly delicate hold. “Judging from the swelling and the angle of your wrist, you seem to have a fracture. Specifically a Radial Styloid fracture.” Keith doesn’t question how he knows what kind of fracture it is by only looking at the outside. Coran’s medical skills are legendary among the team. “Let’s get you dressed in a cryo suit and in that pod Number Four.”

At the word dressed, Keith stiffens and feels his face grow hot as he remembers his current state. He’s aware of the dried blood on his face and the monster’s drool coating his stomach. He shrinks in on himself, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. His throat closes up and he tugs the jacket around him a little tighter, letting Coran lead him to the pod area, still softly holding his wrist steady as they walk.

“Hey, uh, Keith?” Keith’s heart rate spikes and he whips his head around to see Lance right behind him. “Whoa, my bad. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just, I kinda need my jacket back before you go in.”

His grip on the jacket tightens on instinct and his heart is pounding in his throat. It’s harder to breathe and he hears himself wheeze. Lance must have noticed because he puts his hands up and shakes his head. “Hey I’ll give it back, I promise. But if you take it in there it’ll disintegrate.”

Keith nods his head, he knows this, he shouldn’t be freaking out. He’s being so  _stupid_. But his hand shakes and refuse to budge and it takes the effort of Coran’s gentle prying to slowly loosen his hold until the jacket slides off his shoulders. Keith is exposed now, his face heating up with shame, and he hunches his back, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. It’s suddenly freezing, despite the Castle’s regulated temperature.

Lance steps in front of him and looks right into his eyes, forcing Keith meet his gaze. “Listen, you don’t have to feel ashamed or embarrassed or anything like that. We know some screwed up stuff happened down there and no one here is judging you.”

Coran picks up from there. “Number Three is right. You’ve been nothing but incredibly brave throughout this whole ordeal. So focus your energies on healing up and we’ll take care of everything else.” Keith wants to snort at the brave comment but he senses Red again soothing his mind with crackling warmth, melting the bitterness and cold away.

He peels off his boots and black gloves, letting Coran put them aside. He does briefly panic when he reaches for his sheath and realizes it’s empty, until Lance reassures him that he picked up the knife as they retreated and it’s safe and sound.

Keith, with Coran’s help, dons the cryo suit before letting Coran bandage and splint his wrist. Before he enters the healing pod, Keith looks over to confirm that Shiro is still there in a sudden rush of irrationality. The last thing he sees are the Paladins, Allura, and Coran, worry and distress written across their faces. Sleep overtakes him.

* * *

Keith awakes and he finds himself tumbling forward before a pair of strong arms wrap around him, keeping him upright and steady. “How’re you feeling Keith?” Through the mental haze, he registers the voice and arms as belonging to Hunk.

He swallows and is thankful his throat doesn’t hurt anymore so he attempts to at least mumble out a “fine.” Before the word forms, memories of the past day flood his head and overwhelms his senses and his knees buckle. Hunk keeps him from falling and sits him down on a prepared gurney.

A weight is dropped on Keith’s shoulders. “Told you I’d give it back.” He looks up to see an easy smile on Lance’s face. Gratitude fills his chest and burns his eyes. As a distraction he removes the splint then flexes his fingers, rotates his wrist and, finding no trace of pain or stiffness, slips his arms through the sleeves. The oversized green jacket feels snug and warm and he gives Lance an appreciative nod.

“Hey Keith, we got the blanket pile ready for you. Well...almost...ready...” And Pidge struggles with taming the cartoonishly large pile of blankets and pillows in the middle of the floor into something Keith can actually lie on. Hunk and Lance are forced to help and he can’t help but look on fondly at the sight.

Keith’s eyes wander over to Coran, who flits between monitoring Shiro’s vitals and clearing out his own pod. He wants to ask Coran a question, attempts to push it from his mind through his lips but the words are stuck. He tries again and there’s only silence. He’s struck with the fact that he hasn’t spoken since before their rescue and his veins are filled with ice water.

Keith keeps trying to speak until Hunk returns and holds out his hand. “You ready buddy? Everything is all set now.” He’s tempted to take his hand but knows he can’t keep accepting handouts like this. They all probably think he’s weak enough, he doesn’t need to add to that. So he nods, stands, and slowly walks over until he can settle in the pile.

The three Paladins hover, clearly uneasy about approaching him but unwilling to leave. Allura walks in the medbay and Coran turns at the sound of her clicking heels. “Coran, I’ve prepared a pod for our descent. We will leave at once.” She takes in the scene before her and makes eye contact with Keith, her sudden smile dazzling. “Ah Keith, you’re awake now. Excellent. It looks like your injuries have healed quite nicely. I do hope you will allow yourself time to rest properly.”

Keith, taken aback, can only bring himself to nod and Allura brightens even more. “Paladins.” They all stand to attention at her strong voice. “Coran and myself will be back within three vargas. If anything should happen, please do not hesitate to contact us.” And with that, the two leave.

“I wonder where they’re going.”

“Mostly likely back to that planet, since they’re being kind of secretive about it.”

“Well I hope they tell those Quiznacking jerks off.”

“Me too. What they did was, was just  _awful_. Totally not cool.”

“They better do more than just tell them off.”

The natural banter between the three is soothing. Before he can help it, a yawn slips out Keith’s mouth. Lance grins. “Alright, time to get some sleep Mullet. We’ll be close by if you need us.” Hunk adds that they’ll have some food and drinks ready for him once he wakes up.

Keith tries to resist, not wanting to doze off so soon after waking from cryo-sleep. But the stress from his frayed nerves finally catches up with him and he gives in to the pull of sleep, the image of Shiro suspended in the healing pod’s waters slowly fading into black.

* * *

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The rush of parries ring in his ears and send vibrations up his arms. Keith ducks under a horizontal swipe. The gladiator’s midsection is left open and Keith propels with his back legs in a quick lunge that pierces through its body. Keith braces his foot on its torso and pulls his bayard free, the now lifeless robot dummy collapsing to the floor.

He’s panting, face damp and shirt soaked with sweat. His muscles ache with exertion but the rushing of adrenaline is heady and he’s loathe to quit. Even after nearly two hours of training, the nightmares from earlier in the night threaten to close in on him, its grip blackening the edges of his vision and squeezing his heart.

The moment he pauses, the phantom sensation of his broken wrist returns, fire shooting up his arm and nearly dropping his sword. The monster’s grip on his leg bruises as it slams him into the ground, back exploding in pain. His clothes shredded, skin sliced, the grip tightens, dragged through the dirt, saliva pooling on his stomach, its moist rancid breath on his face, its panting as it lowers its hands

“Begin Level 10!” He can’t think about it anymore, he can’t think he can’t he can’t he--

The next gladiator drops in and swings its staff around in a brutal cross strike. Keith grips his bayard with two hands and holds it vertically beside his body, blocking the blow and pushing the staff back. His arms shake with the force of the hit and the strain of his effort. The nightmare’s tendrils are banished again for now.

* * *

Keith is lying prone, Shiro a few feet in front of him. They’re back in the clearing. There’s a horrible, excruciating white hot pain in his lower body and he can’t move his legs. The monster is behind him. He can’t see it like this, is too terrified to look back.

But he sees the fresh gorges in the earth from its claws. He hears its deep breathing, the low, throaty growls that escape its mouth. A bead of cold sweat trickles down his temple, his own breathing shallow and wheezing in contrast.

Keith focuses on Shiro again. His brother is face up, unmoving. Keith grits his teeth and pulls himself forward by his forearms, dragging his dead weight body behind him.

“Shiro?” He doesn’t answer. There’s thick, dark red blood leaking from his mouth and pooling on the ground by his ears. His eyes are half-lidded, dim, blank. He isn’t moving.

Keith screams. And screams. And screams. And--

\--jolts awake to the sound of his own screaming, heart hammering in his chest. His breathing is harsh, panting as he greedily sucks in air in huge gulps. His hands clutch at his red hoodie. The thickness of it and his black sweatpants overheat his body.

He wipes at his face and catches sweat and tears on his hand. He reasoned that exhaustion would give him a few hours of peace, hence the training. Instead he’s transported to that awful place again.

And Shiro was there too, wasn’t he? He-he was…. Keith leaps from his bed, grabbing Lance’s jacket and donning it on his way out. He sprints to the medbay, the need to see Shiro, to make sure that he’s okay, that he’s  _alive_ , imbues his every thought.

Before him is Shiro’s pod, his brother inside. He approaches the monitor and sees his status on the screen below, still shown as stable and healing. Keith’s stomach uncurls and he’s breathing again, lungs burning from the sprint and blind panic.

His mind is calming from its high now that he knows Shiro is okay, was never in danger, it really was just a dream, and it strikes Keith how ridiculous he’s being. He has to get a grip. He’s a Paladin of  _Voltron_  he can’t be like this, he has to get over this it didn’t even  _do_  anything to him--

He stops that train of thought, the images too overwhelming for him to handle right now. Of what happened. Of what  _could_  have happened if Shiro hadn’t saved him. He looks up at Shiro again, then lays down. It couldn’t hurt to stay here, just for tonight. Just in case something does come up. He ignores that the closeness calms his heart and gives him enough peace to close his eyes and rest.

* * *

“W-where are my, my c-clothes?” It’s a day after the incident and Keith’s first actual words aren’t his first choice, or even second or third choice. But they flood out in one continuous hoarse whisper, breaking on every syllable.

Coran, who is monitoring the progress of Shiro’s healing, doesn’t comment on how it sounds but simply answers the question. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean Number Four. You seem to be wearing your clothes at this moment.” And he winks and smiles at Keith as he gestures to the current outfit that Allura and him somehow found and modified yesterday, sans Lance’s jacket. (He finally returned it earlier during breakfast, despite Lance’s loud protests that he could keep it as long as he needed it.)

Keith wants to return the gesture with a chuckle or roll of his eyes. Wants to respond normally, to  _be_  normal again. But he’s so out of his own skin that all he can do is focus on how to rephrase his question, to make him understand.

Here lies the issue. He hadn't spoken in nearly a quintant and when he finally does, can finally push past the dread and nerves, he almost shocks himself with how much he despises the sound of his voice. It’s ugly and harsh, it reminds him of his screams. Even its lowest whisper rattles his teeth and screeches in his ears. “N-no I, uh, m-my other…” He trails off the sentence, unable to bear hearing his voice anymore.

Coran stops what he’s doing and looks at Keith. Stares and observes him. It makes him self conscious, and he wishes he could take back his question, realizing now how dumb it is. He knows what happened to those clothes, to the jacket he loved so much.

Adam had bought it as an early birthday gift, along with the boots, when they went shopping for new clothes. He had mercilessly teased him about how well the half jacket and Go-Go dancer boots went with his mullet but the smile on his face as he bought them anyway was sweet and warm. And now that jacket was g-go-- His eyes burn, vision swimming and he wraps his arms around his chest.

Coran’s hands lightly squeezes his shoulders, anchoring him back to the present. “I understand now, my boy. While your boots and gloves are safe and sound, I’m afraid the rest of your clothes were too torn to salvage.” Keith nods, his energy draining. There was no running from it. The jacket was gone then. At least he still has his boots, and the gloves Shiro gave him.

He nods and tries to pull back but Coran keeps him in place with the slightest pressure. “Keith, I know you have been struggling with this awful turn of events. But I want you to know that we are all here for you now. And we will always be here for you, whether you need a shoulder to cry on or someone to beat back a rampaging Woolen Ragdool.” He lets go to put a fist over his chest, in a pose he probably thinks is both heroic and reassuring.

Keith snorts at the sight, then pauses at how natural that was. It’s a little easier to keep the small smile on his face, despite its waver. “Thanks.” His voice still sounds awful but the gratitude he feels softens his resentment, Coran’s kind words unfurling something in his chest.

Coran beams. “Good to hear lad. Now, I believe Princess Allura and the other Paladins are in the lounge. Why don’t you join them?” Keith considers this and, realizing he has nothing better to do, relents and goes with a tiny wave, Coran’s warm eyes following him.

* * *

Apparently Pidge was just leaving to get Keith when he arrives. Furniture has been rearranged, the couches and table off to the far side of the room and an even bigger pile of blankets and pillows are in the center directly in front of the large monitor. A pile that everyone is currently cuddling in as they watch some show or movie on the screen.

“Thank god I don’t actually have to get up now.” And Pidge waves Keith over from her position nestled in between Hunk’s lower legs. Lance is on Hunk’s right and Allura, right above Pidge, is stretched out over Hunk and Lance’s torsos. The space mice are snoozing on the small of Allura’s back.

Keith is a little overwhelmed, not knowing how he’ll fit in or if he should just sit off to the side. Hunk answers that question for him though. “Come lay over here, there’s plenty of space.” And he pats his left side which is actually vacant. Keith hesitates then carefully walks over and fits himself next to Hunk, who puts an arm around him and pulls him a little closer. Allura, who’s been keeping her legs up, lowers them on Keith once he’s settled in.

“See, was that so hard Mullet?” And Lance get a sharp but harmless thwap across his back from Allura. “Ignore Lance please,” and she ignores the cry from him in return. Keith, comfortable enough in his position and smiling from the scene, attempts to get his throat working enough to ask a question. “W-what movie i-is…?” And his rasping voice gives out again. But he’s proud of the progress he’s making; with each use he hates his voice a little less.

When Allura responds, Keith can hear the child-like excitement in her tone, a far cry from her usual professional demeanor. “It’s an old Altean classic called ‘Love Discovered in the Pits of Thrygrone.’ I watched it with my mother and father all the time growing up.”

At this point the music, unlike anything Keith has ever heard on Earth, swells and the two Alteans on-screen move in for a kiss. He hears sniffles from Lance and Hunk and sighs at the prospect of watching a sappy romance flick. But, feeling snug and secure in the group pile, he finds himself wondering if Shiro would enjoy this kind of movie when they all do it again.

Keith wakes slowly, adjusting his eyes to the soft darkness. His...room...? He’s warm and cozy and tilting his head, realizes he’s wrapped in several blankets. His arms, trapped underneath the fluffy covers, are cradling something soft. He peaks under and sees a pair of large cute eyes staring back at him.

A stuffed toy. Someone gave him a stuffed toy to sleep with. And he not only accepted it but cuddled it in his sleep. He wants to be annoyed. He  _should_  be annoyed. But he is super comfortable and in a nice mood and the stuffed animal -- whatever it’s supposed to be, probably some weird Altean space creature -- is very soft. Most importantly, he hasn’t had a single nightmare this whole time. So Keith simply settles into his bed, holds the toy close, and closes his eyes. He’ll worry about it tomorrow morning.

* * *

Tomorrow morning comes and he doesn’t think to ask about the stuff toy, partly because he’s recovering from a mild nightmare (it started off the usual horrifying way but ended on an alternate ending in which Shiro pulled Keith from the giant monster and they got away) and mostly due to haywire emotions since it’s the day Shiro is suppose to leave the pod.

He’s happy, so happy that tears keep gathering in his eyes and he hurries to scrub them away each time. He’s also terrified because another thought has been plaguing him since he first woke up.

Keith is going to have to tell the others what happened that day.

He  _really_  doesn’t want to. Just thinking about it twists his stomach in a sudden bout of nausea. And no one has even remotely forced him to talk about it. But if he doesn’t then Shiro will have to tell the story himself -- which he would do without question -- but that would be incredibly selfish of Keith to force him to recall those events alone. Especially since Shiro was left off far worse by them.

During breakfast, which Keith felt comfortable enough to join the others in the kitchen for, he ponders how he should approach it. The biggest hurdle is his speaking ability. While it’s improved quite a bit since two quintants ago, he continues to struggle with forming basic sentences. Not to mention how his feelings on everything make it worse.

Keith finishes his plate of food goo but stays behind, still lost in his head. The others sense his need to for space and leave him be, which he’s extremely grateful for. But eventually he becomes frustrated with his circling thoughts and stands, deciding to head to the medbay. He’s always been a man of action, not of navel-gazing, and he needs to take charge of this situation.

Once he arrives, seeing everyone else already gathered at the pod nearly makes him lose his nerve but he forces himself to keep walking. One step at a time, until he’s only a few feet from Shiro.

“Keith, I do hope you’re feeling better today.” Keith nods in response, knowing that Allura is purposely ignoring the dark bags under his eyes and his still paler than normal skin. Even he noticed how terrible he looks getting ready earlier. Coran adds “Good to see you, Number Four! Number One will be out in less than three vargas, good as new.”

The other three are looking at him and Hunk is the one to speak up first, his hands wringing themselves in what Keith has learned to recognize as a sign of anxiety. “Did you get a good night’s sleep? We were all super worried since you looked so tired lately, I mean no one could blame you for that of course, but we still can’t help it. Oh and I hope you liked the plush toy Allura left you. She thought it would make you feel better.”

At that Keith stares back at her and she refuses to meet his eyes, her cheeks suspiciously pink. “W-well it was a holdover from my childhood so I thought we could at least put it to better use.”

“But Princess, you were just playing with the stuffed Windoll the other day--”

“Coran! I was merely examining it for defects and grime buildup, I assure you.”

Lance and Pidge are snickering at the exchange. “I tried to tell Allura not to give it to you, we manly men don’t need kid toys and all, but she was so adamant I couldn’t refuse her.”

“Yeah right Lance, you were crying the whole time because you wanted one from Allura too--”

“Shut up Pidge, you’re making me look bad.”

A snort escapes Keith and he struggles to hold back his laughter behind his hand, shaking with the effort. It’s quiet for a moment, then the sounds of more laughter echo around the room as everyone else joins in. It eventually cools down and Keith is left with a bubbly feeling in his heart. He exhales, and speaks. “I, uh, I can, I-I mean.” Another breath. “I’m, I’m ready to talk. About wha-what happened.” The others quickly sober and give him their undivided attention. He’s startled by all the eyes trained on him and lowers his own gaze.

It takes a long time to get everything out, starting from how Shiro and him were led away from the group and given “special” food and drink, which Keith deduces is how they were drugged. As he continues, he stutters and stops frequently, voicing growing hoarser. At one point Coran fetches him a water pouch when his voice gives out completely, and he spends several minutes drinking and coughing before he can go on.

Many bottled up feelings surface through the recounting. Anger at the Kolese for drugging and attempting to murder them after Voltron saved their whole planet. The bone-chilling fear of being beaten down and pinned by the Ilnesh, of seeing Shiro cough up so much blood from his injuries. Those horrible chants that still echo in Keith’s mind.

He barely touches on what that monster almost did to him. He can’t bear the shame of his cowardly screams, of being so useless, of being so  _scared_. But it seems that they figured out what it was trying to do, judging from the clenched jaws and sobs.

Keith most likely wouldn’t have been able to continue from this point, if the flames of the Red Lion hadn’t barged in his mind. He feels her boiling anger at what they dared to do to her Paladins, as she soothes him with the warmth of a fireplace. He closes his eyes and finishes, sending her waves of gratitude back.

By the end, Coran had come over to Keith’s side and let him rest on his shoulder. Keith is wrung out, raw from the tale and leans into the older man, turning it into a hug once Coran wraps both arms around him. Everyone sits quietly, still processing what was revealed to them. Keith is sure they had some idea of what happened that day, considering that they were all fighting the inhabitants in the first place, but the Kolese ruler most likely hid vital details from them.

Allura speaks and draws in her full regality, confirming Keith’s theory in the process. “After Shiro emerges from the pod and is properly cared for, we will be paying another visit to the Kolese. It seems their ruler purposely misled us in our previous talks.” Keith hears Coran’s verbal agreement, voice hardened with...anger?

“I’m coming too, those assholes aren’t getting away with hurting my brothers,” Pidge’s gaze is steel. Lance and Hunk nod their agreement with her, expressions set. Affection swells in Keith and his eyes are wet with unshed tears. Although the events with the Kolese will scar him for years to come, he’s fortunate enough to have found people who care for him so much. He wants to thank them for everything they’ve done these past few days but can’t swallow past the lump in his throat. He hopes he can tell them how much he appreciates them soon.

There’s a loud beeping noise that echoes through the medbay and every single head turns toward the source. The thirty second warning for the pod’s release.

Shiro’s finally healed.

Keith steadies himself on Coran and lets go when he’s sure his legs are fine enough to walk. He approaches the side of the pod and waits for the glass to open, hearing the others step just behind him.

Shiro opens his eyes and stumbles out.

Keith is waiting with open arms to catch his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did not expect to actually write this second chapter out but here it is and boy is it a doozy. Got to try out writing PTSD recovery, which is really hard let me tell you, and I hope I did it justice. Both in general and in relation to Keith's character.
> 
> Another difficult thing was fitting in the details to remain consistent with ch.1. Also tough but I somehow managed. Hope everyone enjoys and please feel free to leave criticisms behind because I really need them lol

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first time I wrote something like this. Which you can clearly see when comparing this M-rated monster to my other super fluffy works. A lot of things inspired me to write it: wanting a story with Shiro being awesome and badass, Keith being in distress, trying out action scenes, reading too much on old mythologies and sacrifices, and experimenting with horror/suspense elements. Also I love writing gore so there's that too.
> 
> Some little details that didn't make it into the story [Edited since ch.2 delved into some of the original details]:
> 
> -The Kolese leader and his royal court aren't evil per se but truly believe in the Goddess's wrath and that if they don't complete the ceremony, plagues will befall their kingdom and kill everyone.  
> -The Hero can be a willing sacrifice but due to the nature of the Virgin's role (they must have never had sex or ever desire it) they must always be unwilling.  
> -Usually it's foreign visitors that are sacrificed--out of the thousands of years this ritual has been in place only three times have other Kolese been used.  
> -Coran received a warning from the Castle and him and everyone else found the Red Lion flipping out in the hangar. The Black Lion imprinted waves of distress on the Paladins, then Red led the way and everyone else boarded Green since it has cloaking, letting the Kolese soldiers believe Red went haywire on its own and try to attack it.  
> 


End file.
